


Looking Forward to It

by TriscuitsandSoup



Series: Of Alphas and Werebunnies [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha Peter, Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Good Alpha Peter, Good Peter, M/M, Mating, Minor Chris Argent/Isaac Lahey, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omega Verse, Purring, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski, background chris argent/isaac lahey, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:05:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriscuitsandSoup/pseuds/TriscuitsandSoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Stiles never wanted an Alpha, and Peter never considered taking another Omega. The two would never even have met if Talia Hale hadn't insisted Peter screen potential mating candidates for her son, Derek. Their first meeting was a tumultuous one. </i><br/>How Peter met Stiles, and how they subsequently became mates. This can be read without the other parts.</p><p>*In the process of being rewritten*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Peter Met Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> This is currently being rewritten. There might be some inconsistencies here and there. Please be patient while I rewrite it. Thank you!

Stiles never wanted an Alpha, and Peter never considered taking another Omega. The two would never even have met if Talia Hale hadn't insisted Peter screen potential mating candidates for her son, Derek. Their first meeting was a tumultuous one. 

Talia had wanted to do the 'pre-courtship' interviews herself, but she was worried she might intimidate potential omegas and knew her opinion towards them would be biased due to her love for her son, and the political connections their mating would bring. So she sent Peter, the surly but loving uncle in her stead. Peter had some experience matching omegas, he'd done it briefly as a career after he'd been mated himself, but quit soon after his own omega ran off with their child. Very few people knew that fact, and it was one Peter intended to remain hidden.

When Peter Hale arranged a meeting with Sheriff stilinski they were both under the impression it would be _Derek_ courting Stiles. Peter heard the omega was exceptionally smart, came from a good family, and as of yet refused to pick an alpha. He and the boys father agreed that his stubborn nature might mesh well with the unmovable boulder Peter called a nephew. Plus, having the sheriffs kid mated into his family would further elevate the Hale family name.

"Oh, hey," he greeted casually, letting out a soft yawn. "Are you Peter, or whoever?" Peter furrowed his brow. 

"Yes, I am Peter 'or whoever'. You must be . . ." he looked at the name on the file in his hands. He hadn't been able to guess the correct pronunciation on the drive over, and he wasn't having any better luck now that the person attached to it stood in front of him. 

"Just call me Stiles. You won't be able to pronounce it," he shrugged and turned from Peter, leading the way into the house without a further word; Peter reluctantly followed. He plopped down at the kitchen table where a half-eaten bagel and a carton of orange juice still lay out. Apparently the boy was neither polite nor cleanly, the basic definition of being an omega. Peter was getting more and more annoyed by the minute. 

"Well, _Stiles_ , I suppose you know why I'm here?" His tone was condescending as he sat down across from the boy. Stiles nodded. 

"Yeah, you're here to see if I'd be a good match for your brother, or son, or nephew or whomever," Stiles waved a hand dismissively. "You're trying to see if I'm intelligent and would make a good house wife. My dad says I'm pretty smart; wanna hear the entire history of the male circumcision?" The question caught Peter off guard and for the first time since opening the door Stiles smiled. _At least he's pretty enough when he stops scowling,_ thought Peter, pleased to note the omega had at least one redeeming quality.

"No, but what I _would_ like is a cup of coffee," suggested Peter, hoping Stiles hosting skills weren't as bad as the rest of his manners. 

"Sure," Stiles shrugged. "Do you know how to use a coffee maker?" he cocked his head to the side. Peter felt his eye twitch. The omega was testing him, he had to be.

"I'm afraid not," lied Peter easily. "I've only ever used one of the newer models," he flashed a bright smile at the omega. He thought he saw a flicker of annoyance cross the boys face, but he recovered quickly.

Stiles stood up and moved towards the cabinets, rummaging around for a second. "We don't have any coffee creamer or anything," he turned back to Peter. 

"That's fine," Peter tapped his nails on the edge of the table, he hated black coffee but he wasn't going to let an annoying little child get the better of him. He thought he saw a smirk on Stiles face as he pulled out the metal tin of coffee grounds, but he must have imagined it.

"So, Stiles," he flipped through the boys file. "You're in your twenties?" he raised a brow. It was a bit late for an omega - especially one from a high-standing family - to still be awaiting courtship. He wondered if there was something wrong with the boy - aside from his impeccably poor table manners. 

"I'm nineteen, but I'll be in my twenties soon I guess." Stiles scooped the grounds out of the tin and poured them into the coffee filter before setting the machine. "My dad got called into work, so it's just us today." It wasn't usually considered appropriate for an omega to have an interview with a representative by themselves, usually a guardian was nearby to make sure the omega wasn't coerced or coached in any way, but Stiles was an adult and old enough to take care of himself. 

"Well, that's fine. I'm sure we can have a nice discussion without him?" Peter could hear the lie in his own voice, and from the way he furrowed his brows he guessed the human did too. 

"Sure? Nobody else had any issues." If Stiles shrugged one more time Peter was going to slap him. 

"How many interviews have you had this year?" asked Peter curiously. It was an extremely rude question to ask, and if Talia heard him she would have growled for sure, but Talia wasn't there. Stiles seemed surprised for a moment. 

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe like twenty or thirty total?" Peter was surprised, usually matings only got as far as fifth or sixth interviews, and Stiles was well past the appropriate age to be unmated. The coffee maker finished a few seconds later. 

Stiles slid the coffee mug over to the alpha wolf, not even bothering to cross the table and hand it to him. Peter put on the most tolerable smile he could manage. 

"Thank you, Stiles," he spoke again in a condescending voice, like talking to a young child.

"Mhm," Stiles continued to pick at his bagel without another word. 

Glancing back down at his file there was nothing to prevent Stiles from finding a suitable mate; his grades weren't excellent but nothing unusual for a teenager, and aside from the ADHD he didn't seem to have anything wrong medically - mentally Peter wasn't so sure. He was currently enrolled in an online school targeted primarily towards alphas, but they accepted a few omegas that showed promise here and there. Stiles undoubtedly had been accepted in due to his relation to the towns Sheriff. 

"So, why don't you tell me about yourself?" he really knew all he wanted to about the boy, but it would look better if their interview didn't end after less than ten minutes. 

"Well, my name is Stiles. I love my computer, and when I grow up I want to be a hermit who lives in the woods, with a camera, and documents the weird things that live out there." Peter couldn't hear any skips in his heartbeat, but he attributed it to the loud coffee maker still buzzing away in the corner. 

"And why is that?" 

"Because not everybody is a perfect little house omega." There was an edge to his voice that Peter zeroed in on immediately. He suspected he was stepping on a field of land mines about to explode, and damn did Peter want to explode them. He noticed the boy furrowed his brow every time he said the word 'mate,' and chose to lead with that. 

"Come now, everyone finds their mate eventually. I'm sure you have many . . . talents that would make you a suitable omega. We just have to find out what they are, now don't we? Why don't you start by telling me about things you like, and we'll go from there." To his great pleasure Stiles seemed unnerved, his hands fidgeted and he avoided eye contact. It likely wasn't intentional, but his behaviors were that of a submissive. 

"I . . . suppose," the boy responded after a minute of hesitation. "Oh, I'm really good at video games, and I can read like 200 words a minute, but only when I've taken too much adderall," Stiles admitted, the goofy grin returning. 

"You know Stiles, oversharing is a strong sign of mental illness." The omega _was_ testing him.

"Well it runs in the family. A lot of things do. Like AIDs." Stiles stared at him seriously, but the grin didn't leave his face. Peter barely stopped himself from barking out a laugh. If the house hadn't been so quiet he may not have been able to hear the lie in his voice. 

"I have your families medical history right here," he waved the file. "I know for a fact that neither you, nor anyone else in your family has AIDs." Stiles grin dropped. 

"Yeah, well, I have a lot of unprotected gay sex. Like a lot. Constantly. You should meet my friend Danny. He's great." Stiles said it so smoothly that once again Peter had to strain to hear the skip in his heartbeat. _So he's a brat and a clever liar. Maybe there is a use for him in the world._ Peter was actually starting to have fun with him.

"Oh, yes? And how was that?" he asked, refusing to react to anything the boy said, it seemed to be his goal. 

"It's great. Great way to start the morning and end the night. Just call up some buddies and have a go." This time Peter did laugh, though he noted that once again Stiles managed to maintain the lie with barely any change in his heart rate, despite how obviously fake he was being.

"Now, where did a smart little omega like you learn to lie like that?" Peter purred. Now he was interested in him, and his interest was hard to shake. 

"I spend a lot of time at the Sheriffs stati- wait, no!" He shook his head. For a minute there he almost sounded proud. Strange of an omega to be proud of his lying skills. "It isn't a lie, it's the truth. I have copious amount of gay sex." Peter chuckled, he decided he actually rather liked the little monster. He wasn't a traditional omega and that was a welcome reprieve. 

"You don't smell like you've ever even been touched by an alpha." The only alpha smell on Stiles was that of his father and an unfamiliar, but if the unfamiliar wolf was really a threat Stiles wouldn't be at a mating interview right now. 

"That's not true, sometimes my friend Scott comes over and we play video games and cuddle," Stiles blurted out. _Ah, so he unravels once you get under his skin._ Peter grinned at finally having broken through the boys shell. Now he could poke and prod at the soft, vulnerable omega hiding underneath, find out if he would really be a good match or not. Even if he didn't, Peter wanted to learn more about how Stiles learned to lie, and what other secrets he may be keeping. 

"You really don't have much control over what words come out of your mouth, do you? Too much adderall today?" It was fun playing with the omega, and the evil alpha in him delighted in breaking the creature down to his core, seeing his true colors. 

"Oh my god!" Stiles finally exploded, throwing his arms in the air. "Can you just go home already? I'm not a good match for your nephew! _Leave._ " 

"What?"

"Go. Home," demanded Stiles in a voice that was very much _not_ omega-like at all. Peter decided he really, really, liked the spunky omega named Stiles. "I didn't go to all the trouble of getting my dad called into work, messing up my own home, and leaving food out on the table overnight just so _you_ could ply me with questions for an hour," Stiles jabbed an accusing finger at him. Peter looked around, wondering how much of the mess had been staged. Under any other circumstance he would have admired the boys determination, but this was concerning. 

"Why are you so resistant to being mated?" Peter spoke in a softer tone now. He was putting a ridiculous amount of resistance into something that was supposed to be the happiest moment of his life. 

Stiles gruffed and laid his head down on the table.

"Because I don't want to be an omega, and I don't want a mate," he muttered. Peter frowned. 

"Why would you not want to be mated? It's what-" 

"I don't care if it's 'what I was born for'. I don't want it. Lots of people are born for things they don't want and I don't want to be a stupid omega house pet." 

"I was _going_ to say 'it's what makes your family complete.' It doesn't have to be an unpleasant experience, and in most cases it isn't." Stiles scoffed. 

"Yes because being forced to move out of my house, give up my career, give up school, and pop out babies for the rest of my life sounds like a great time." Peter couldn't see the boys eyes but he suspected he was rolling them. Peter sighed. 

"Finding your mate is a give and take. You may have to give up some things, but so will your alpha. I'm certain you know why omegas aren't allowed in most schools?" Stiles picked up his head a little. 

"It's because they could be taken advantage of, by alpha students or even their teachers. It isn't fair, but it happens, and in the past it was highly common. These days more omega-only schools are being established, and even some of the more affluent schools are offering special sections to further omega enrollment. Additionally, you could always just pursue magic." Peter shrugged. "You can learn it from home, provided you had a mentor." 

"I could?" Stiles picked his head up. He still didn't see convinced, but his eyes had softened. 

"If you have the spark." Peter said noncommittally. He knew such an opinionated boy wouldn't be able to survive with Derek - not unless they cut his tongue out first - and though the idea was appealing he'd been disturbed by Stiles admission of not wanting to be an omega. 

"Well, Stiles," he continued, closing the file. "I think it's pretty obvious you wouldn't be an ideal mate for my nephew," he allowed Stiles to enjoy a brief moment of victory before crushing it. "But rest assured, I will help you get mated. It's a wonderful experience, and I'm sure given the proper mentoring you could learn to enjoy it." Stiles growled, Peter smirked. 

"Once I've talked to your father, I'm sure he'll agree to let me take you on as a representative to find you a mate. I'm sure he's too busy to do it himself, anyways." Peter wanted to see more of the boy, he wanted to see the troublesome little omega admit that having an alpha was nice. 

"I will be the most unruly omega you have ever seen," Stiles growled seriously, narrowing his eyes. 

"And I look forward to the challenge." He smirked. 

"Bring it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter starts coaching Stiles, Stiles is unruly.

"I'm certain between the three of us we can find _someone_ Stiles here will like," Peter put an arm around the boy in a mockingly affectionate gesture. Stiles scowled and tried to shove him off. 

"No. Never. I don't need a mate. I'm a strong, independent, omega who don't need no man," he glared up at Peter indignantly.

"Stiles, listen to Peter." The sheriffs words were firm. He and Peter had a long discussion after he'd returned from work. He was still angry about Stiles faking the voice mail and wasn't taking any of his usual nonsense. Stiles knew when he could press his luck and now was not the time. 

Peter had offered to take Stiles on as a mating coach - as he'd told Stiles he would - and after some slight deliberation John agreed. Stiles groaned out in frustration, dropping his head into his hands.

"He's a handful," he said, addressing Peter. "But he's a good kid."

"Oh, I'm certain he is." Peter agreed, though when the sheriff turned his back he gave Stiles a look that let him know he didn't think Stiles was a 'good kid' at all. Stiles groaned but bit back his sarcastic response, not wanting to test his fathers patience any further. While his fathers back was still turned away he stuck his tongue out at Peter. 

"Really? Child," scoffed Peter. 

\---------

 

"I think I'm going feral." 

"No, you're not." 

"Yes I am. Being surrounded by all these stupid alphas is making me _feral_."

"No, it isn't. Humans don't go feral." Peter didn't even bother looking up from his magazine as he spoke. Stiles shot him an aggravated look. 

"Take me home or I'll start howling like a wolf." 

"You aren't going to start howling like a wolf because you _can't_ howl like a wolf. I've heard you try. It's bad."

"AaaaaAAiiIIIieeeeeeEEEeeeeeeekk!" Stiles 'howled' while twisting his face into a pained expression. The few others in the lobby turned to stare as the demented human fell wide-eyed onto the floor, apparently having died. The sudden 'death' of the omega failed to get a rise out of Peter, save for a wince when he shouted. 

Peter gave him a condescending look and continued flipping through the magazine. The 'screaming and death' tactic had ceased to work on him five potential mates ago. The boy was going to attend his first courtship meeting today, whether or not he chose to be alive for it. 

A lesser representative might have given up on Stiles - and many had before - but Peter welcomed the challenge. Even when it had been his career Peter chose to focus on obstinate and unruly omegas, rather than the quiet submissives who just had trouble approaching an alpha on their own. 

"You can stay on the floor if you want to Stiles, just do so quietly." He continued to flip through the magazine with disinterest. He didn't really care about issue, but it kept him from focusing on the pristine white walls of the meeting center. He hated it, it reminded him too much of a hospital. 

Stiles couldn't resist putting his act on hold to pipe up. "I don't need your permission to lay on the floor. I can lay on the floor if I want too." His talkative nature would always be his undoing. 

"Of course you can, darling, but if you don't behave yourself I _will_ use the alpha tone on you." After the 'twitch and die' routine usually came the 'scream and try to get Peter arrested' portion.

"Using the alpha tone in a public area is against the law, and in this case constitutes omega abuse." He remained in a sprawled out position, but drew his tongue back into his mouth. Peter scoffed. 

"Nonsense. I was just defending myself from the worlds first ever feral human. I'd probably be hailed as a hero. Really now, who do you think your father would believe?" Stiles thought for a moment and begrudgingly pushed himself back up onto the chair. His father was still annoyed about the voice mail, and the multiple 'public disturbance' calls he received shortly after Peter started coaching Stiles. 

_Stiles looked up at his father with betrayal._

_"Don't look at me like that. I just don't know what to do with you, Stiles," he shook his head sadly. "I want you to be -" _normal_ \- "happy, and you're never going to pick a mate if I just keep letting you do whatever you want."_

_"I don't _need_ a mate-" _

_"That's just the problem Stiles, you _do_. I love you." He pulled his son into a hug and Stiles sighed, hugging him back."If I can't teach you that then maybe Peter can." ___

__"Good boy," praised Peter once he was sitting properly on the chair again. Stiles rolled his eyes and huffed. He doubted that Peter would actually use the alpha tone on him - especially not after the Sheriff had given him the 'hurt my son and die' talk - but the threat was enough to bring him into begrudging compliance._ _

__\---_ _

__The boy was proving to be just as much of a challenge as he'd promised. Peter made him change clothes three times before he ended up with something that wasn't flannel, and to his great displeasure counted it as a win. He tried letting Stiles drive to the meeting center on his own, but he disconnected his own battery to fake car trouble. Stiles grimaced when Peter discovered the 'problem' and joyfully announced they would still be able to make their registered meeting time._ _

__He kept his hand firmly on the back of Stiles neck or between his shoulder blades when meeting with other representatives. Stiles had a nasty habit of breaking into unpleasant conversation about off putting topics like 'the proper way to flay someone's feet' and 'fun facts about the human body'._ _

___"Hey, did you know that people have tiny mites living in their eyelashes? They live on oil and dead skill cells." The interviewer took on a impressive shade of white. Stiles opened his mouth to continue but Peter prodded him with a sharp claw to his back. Stiles yelped and glared at his guardian._ _ _

__The interview lasted less than thirty seconds after that. He knew Stiles was doing it on purpose to intentionally upset the interviewers, but that was fine. These were just practice until he was well behaved enough to meet someone he might actually want to mate with._ _

__Unfortunately, one of the candidates named 'Greenberg' had eagerly approved a pre-courtship with Stiles. The alpha had been on more mating interviews than anyone in the area, with a record marginally larger than Stiles. Peter thought about flat out rejecting the offer, but then decided against it. Letting Stiles see what kind of alpha he _could_ end up with might be good for him._ _

__"He's the one," said Stiles after exiting the interview._ _

__"Oh really, now? Greenberg?" The detest was clear in Peters voice._ _

__"Yup," said Stiles, pulling out his phone and starting to text. "Definitely the guy I'm gonna marry." Peter sighed._ _

__"Does _he_ feel the same?"_ _

__"Not sure. He spent the whole time talking about Lacrosse; he's never won a game though. I like his moxie." The sarcasm was thick and heavy, his eyes flickered up to Peters. "I don't think he's bathed in like nine years, he was wearing sneakers and sweat pants. Are tryouts today?" Stiles scoffed. "Did you really think I would like that guy?_ _

__"I'm not sure someone who owns five flannel shirts should judge," Peter teased. Stiles rolled his eyes._ _

__"Well hopefully I'll end up with an alpha who cares about stupid crap like that, then he can deal with clothes and stuff and I can focus on school." The omega shrugged._ _

__"Oh, so you do have _some_ preferences towards an alpha?" Gaining that piece of knowledge he counted as a win too. "I'll keep it in mind next time I look at the list of potential mates." Stiles looked about to say something, but thought better of it. _ _

__"No. 'Nonexistent' is my only preference."_ _

__"Such a difficult boy. Now promise me you'll be somewhat more appealing in the next interview? Greenbergs representative said you told him your name was Miguel and you wanted to be a paranormal investigator."_ _

__"Only one of those things was a lie. You can pick which one. I still don't want an alpha," he glared up at Peter. "And I'm not just going to sit here and play 'good omega' for you."_ _

__Peter sighed. He had his work cut out for him still, but there was improvement. Stiles had opened up to him about what he wanted in an mate, and that was a sure sign of progress. He just needed to learn what made Stiles tick. He had a strong interest in academics but no attention span, or legal rights to pursue them. Something clicked in his brain._ _

__"Oh really? Not even if I offered to teach you magic?" he poked the omegas forehead. Stiles eyes lit up at the offer._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this came out later than usual. I'm back in college now so my 'writing and editing' time has drastically decreased T.T I'll try to get the next part out sooner.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter starts teaching Stiles magic, Peters alpha instincts start coming back, and Stiles is a shit like usual.

_"Oh really? Not even if I offered to teach you magic?" he poked the omegas forehead. Stiles eyes lit up at the offer._

\---

It didn't matter what Peter tried to teach Stiles, the boy was opposed to progress. Though he had the spark, he was far too impulsive to make teaching him easy. They started off with minor salves, and even those were dangerous when put into Stiles hands. 

_"Be careful not to use to much, or you'll-" there was a loud bang. When Peter turned around Stiles was covered in green powder, and what little remained of the potion had been splattered against the ceiling._

_"I'll go get a mop?" he smiled sheepishly, unharmed, though a bit stunned. A few globs of the potion dripped onto the floor._

_"Yes, you'd better," Peter said in a dry tone._

He did find, however, that Stiles was a much more attentive student when he cared about the subject matter at hand, as most people were. He learned that bribing him with knowledge and textbooks was enough to coerce him into behaving amicably during his mating interviews. Peter like teaching Stiles - whether he was cooperative or not. 

At the very least Stiles was an entertaining pupil. The omega was inquisitive and smart, not to mention a blabbermouth; he learned all sorts of interesting things about Beacon Hills P.D. Peter made sure to log away some of the more 'confidential' information about ongoing investigations, to pass along to Chris later. 

Stiles still didn't like the idea of having an alpha, but he was coming around to it. He protested a little less each time Peter brought it up. Their afternoon activities remained a secret; Sheriff Stilinski wouldn't want his son learning such a dangerous art, and Stiles didn't want to hear the lecture about how magic was 'cheating'. If he allowed Stiles to learn magic at all, it would only be the defensive, or healing kind. 

Peter had already taught Stiles several . . . unsavory things, things that most mentors waited years before divulging to their students. Peter had never been one for following rules, and if Stiles was old enough to ask he was old enough to know. The boy was _relatively_ harmless, and the spells were more annoying than dangerous. Plus, the sadist in Peter got a kick out of teaching Stiles how to summon a hoard of angry cockroaches - without telling him what the spell would do first. Stiles spent the next forty minutes on top of a table while Peter laughed. 

"You are such a jerk!" he accused, pointing a finger in Peters direction. Several of the bugs had started climbing up the tables legs after their summoner. 

"Oh, am I? I'm not the one who told that poor alpha to google image search _'blue waffles'_. Think about the consequences of your actions, darling, and I might consider teaching you the banishing spell." 

"Jesus fucking Christ, Peter." Stiles rolled his eyes. "Of course it takes someone like _you_ to punish with cockroaches." It was a cruel punishment but it had the desired effect, and the number of people who threw up around Stiles decreased. It was a public service really. 

\----

"Congratulations, Stiles." 

"Shut up." 

"No, really. Good for you." 

"Peter," Stiles wheezed. "Shut. Up." 

"I'm impressed. Seriously." Stiles sighed, deciding not to give in further to Peters baiting. Peter went on anyways. 

"Only you could find the exact combination of ingredients to turn a poultice into a poison. If you had used literally _anything_ else it would have come out marvelously, but no, you defied logic - and my teachings - and made it a poison. The wit you must have." 

"Future generations will tell tales about you. Finally we can experience the common cold, without actually being sick. What a time to be alive. High school students everywhere will praise your name." Stiles glared up at Peter, though he looked thoroughly nonthreatening from underneath the pile of blankets, shivering and shaking in Peters bed. Stiles wondered if Peter woke up extra early in the morning just to practice his sarcasm. Peter continued to condescendingly stroke Stiles head. The warmth from his hand was soothing, and felt pleasant against his freezing body. 

"Technically the cold was a side effect." His voice was hoarse, nose stuffed, but he was determined to salvage his dignity anyway he could. A vengeful glint appeared in the omegas eyes, and - sensing his actions - the blanket was pulled out of his arms before he could wipe his nose on it, a wad of tissues shoved into his hands in its place. 

"I'd appreciate it if you _didn't_ use my blanket as a tissue." Peter turned his nose in disgust. Stiles dropped the tissues onto the bed and blew his nose on Peters pillow instead, staring at him while he did so in a spiteful challenge. 

"Stiles!" Peter growled, thwacking the top of his head. 

"Ow! Don't hit sick people!" 

"You only got sick because you decided to swallow a random hodge-podge of ingredients, just to see what would happen! You get no sympathy from me." Stiles wasn't sure if Peter even had sympathy. 

"Well I couldn't exactly test it on _you_. You're a werewolf, it might not have worked!" There was silence and then Peter gave an irritated sigh, a sound Stiles had become more than familiar with over the past few weeks. 

"What have we learned from this whole experience?" 

". . . Don't touch Peters stuff when he isn't home?" Stiles received the blanket back as a reward, which he wrapped around himself tightly. It smelled like Peter, Stiles found he didn't mind the smell. 

"How about 'don't play with unfamiliar ingredients' and 'always listen to Peter'?"

"Do you always have to be right?" 

"Well, sometimes I'm left, but that's just two rights in a row," Peter shrugged and poked Stiles forehead. Stiles groaned at the pun. "Now, get some rest. Your fathers going to be suspicious if I don't bring you home soon, and you still look like death." His symptoms would thankfully be short lived, the poison would only temporarily disable him while his immune system worked to purge his body of the toxin. A couple hours of rest and he'd be back to normal. 

Reluctantly Stiles obeyed the older alphas command. He closed his eyes and took in as deep a breath as he could manage with the congestion clogging his nose. He could still smell Peters scent, strong and musky as it always was. Humans couldn't 'scent' as well as wolves could, but they did get those that were familiar too them, like friends, family, and mates.

Stiles felt safe and warm, wrapped up in Peters bed, with Peters hand gently caressing the top of his head. He stretched his legs out before curling inwards. He let the smell lull him further into a feeling of safety and comfort, despite his pounding head and watery eyes. He started to think it might not be so bad to have an alpha. 

A warmth spread through his body that he mistook for another bout of fever, despite it being not entirely unpleasant. It muddled his thoughts, but his feelings remained unchanged. His own omega scent was so obscured by sickness that even Peter, experienced with omegas, didn't register the omega buzz that overwhelmed Stiles brain and body. His eyes glazed behind their lids and he nuzzled his head into the hand that pet him. _Safe. Warm. Happy._ Repeated in his mind over, and over again. Had he been in the right state of mind he would have felt embarrassed by how quickly he'd succumbed to the buzz, simply by being surrounded by Peters scent. 

Above him Peter smiled, watching the feverish omega cease its shaking. He believed his actions were the result of his lessening fever, and how the heat from his palm calmed the cold that overran his body. He was cute when he wasn't mouthing off or getting into potentially lethal amounts of trouble.

The omega scent that _did_ filter off of Stiles put him at ease, just as much as his own scent soothed Stiles. Though neither of them knew it. He tried not to dwell too much on the thought, ignorant of Stiles omega buzz going on next to him.

It felt nice to have an omega smell back in his bed again. His alpha instincts kick started with a surprising intensity when he'd entered the house and found Stiles shivering, and clearly incapacitated. He had been conscious but weak and feverish. He hadn't thought before picking him up and carrying him into the bedroom, ignoring Stiles mewling protests. 

He wasn't angry or annoyed when he found Stiles, that came later. The only emotion he felt was protective concern. A nagging voice at the back of his head told him that bringing an unmated omega into his room was 'inappropriate' and what he _should_ do was call the boys parent. The nagging voice in the back of his head didn't understand that Peter was essentially a self-serving creature, he only did what was right for him. Calling John Stilinski would likely sever his relationship with Stiles once he thought Peter was a danger to his son, and Peter couldn't have that.

He didn't know if it was stupidity, or a tendency towards suicide that made Stiles act so impulsively reckless. His reemerging instincts told him that no matter the reason, he should protect and care for the omega. He put a hand on the nape of Stiles neck and let out a warning growl subconsciously, aimed towards anyone who would try to harm him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update might take me a little while, I think I've mentioned before but schoooooool T.T I've got it mostly written out though so it shouldn't be too long. 
> 
> Don't google image search blue waffles. Just don't.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Peter and Stiles bonding time, and Sheriff and Stiles awkwardness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry for the lateness of this T.T I only had the time between classes to write it, so I'm sorry if it seems rushed or if there are mistakes. I tried to correct them the best I could. I tried to make it a little longer than usual to make up for my absence.

"I ran into Melissa yesterday," commented John at breakfast, while Stiles shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. 

"Oh yeah? Hows she?"

"She says you haven't been around the house much." Stiles froze. "She told me to tell you to hang out with Scott more, he misses you." There was a question in his voice, but he didn't look up from the newspaper.

"Ah, well," he dropped the spoon and scratched the back of his neck. "Just, school work you know?"

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with Peter lately," the newspaper was laid down on the table as the sheriff turned his full attention to his son. Stiles inwardly groaned, Peter was the last person he wanted to talk about.

"Y-yeah well," Stiles shrugged, hoping his face read 'nonchalant'. "You know me, I'm a monster. Can't focus either. I require a lot of extra work, you know?"

"I do know you," John agreed. "That's what concerns me. You don't talk about your potential mating partners, or your school work, or anything else. When you come home you talk about Peter."

"Hey, you're the one who's making me see a mating coach in the first place, I was fine the way things were. You should be happy we're getting along," he pointed out, jabbing his spoon in Johns direction. "No more 'public disturbance' calls or anything." 

"Stiles . . ." John spoke in a wavering tone. Stiles looked up from his cereal, frowning. "I don't think you should see Peter anymore." A sliver of fear ran down Stiles spine. "Not if it isn't helping. I think he only wanted to coach you to get a favor for his sister, anyways."

"That's not true," Stiles interjected a little too quickly. John raised a brow. "I mean . . . Peter, he's not . . . ". Stiles thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Peter is helping. I want to keep seeing him. At least for now."

"Are you sure?" The sheriff furrowed his brows. Stiles recognized his 'interrogation face' "He's not coercing you at all, is he? I don't like that he didn't call me when you got sick. You know if he was you could-"

"It's not like that, dad! It's just that . . . I like Peter," he admitted, then becoming aware of how it sounded added- "I mean I don't _like_ like." Stiles flailed his arms, not sure who he was trying to convince. He wasn't about to admit to his father that he had a 'crush' on a man twice his age. He nearly winced when he realized how accurate the word 'crush' fit into the situation.

"Uh huh. Well, you know it's okay if you . . . like . . . Peter, Stiles." Stiles felt heat and embarrassment rush to his face. Before he could respond John raised a hand. "I know it's not 'like' it's just 'like'. What I mean to say is," John cleared his throat, also uncomfortable with the current subject matter. "I know it must have been hard for you, growing up with just one parent . . . If Peter fills some kind of void-"

"Oh god," Stiles groaned and placed his head in his hands. "I do not think of Peter like a parent." He wasn't really sure what he did think of Peter, but that was not it. "He's more like . . . the creepy uncle everyone has?" Even that was a bit of a stretch. "Peters a good person. He's not trying to take advantage of me. I promise." Stiles wondered if he would mind if Peter did try to take advantage of him. He shuddered and banished the thought to the back of his brain.

"Stiles, if you feel like," he struggled to find the right words. "If, you aren't getting enough attention at home, there are plenty of officers down at the station who wouldn't mind spending time with you, like Deputy Parrish? You like him, right?" Stiles felt like dying. He couldn't meet his fathers gaze as he starred him down. "You don't need to go to Peter."

"Oh god," Stiles slunk down further in the chair, wanting to disappear. "I think the amount of attention I get is fine," he muttered. "I don't need anymore, I'd actually like less. Thanks though." The sheriff sighed.

"You know if you need to talk, you can just come find me; right kiddo?" Stiles nodded, gulping.

"Yeah," Stiles smiled weakly. "Of course I'll come find you." They both knew it was a lie. "I'll ask Scott if he wants to hang out tonight, okay?" Stiles compromised, hoping that would be enough to get the suspicion off his back. 

John only nodded and returned to reading his paper. 

\-------------------

"I don't really blame your dad for thinking something's up," said Scott as they lay across his bed, watching a superhero movie. "I haven't seen you a lot lately. I miss you," he didn't meet Stiles eyes as he spoke. 

"It's not like you haven't been busy with Allison. It takes two, Scotty," he shoveled another handful of popcorn into his mouth, and likewise avoided making eye contact. 

"That's different. Allison and I are - we're trying to _mate_. It's not like you and Peter want to be together." Stiles didn't respond. "You _don't_ want to be with Peter, right, Stiles?" Stiles rested his head on his hands and thought for a moment. 

"Peter is a pretty cool guy, he knows a lot of cool shit, and he doesn't get hung up on the whole 'alpha omega' thing. I feel like . . . I don't really know what I feel," he confessed. "But I . . . like him. I trust him." Scott didn't seem too happy with the answer, but he didn't voice whatever it was that concerned him.

"Have you buzzed at all?" 

"Dude, inappropriate," Stiles chastised, feeling the ever-present embarrassment resurfacing. 

"I was just wondering, I don't think you can actually mate with someone you haven't buzzed for." Stiles groaned, he already had one uncomfortable mating talk for the day, he wasn't sure he could handle too. 

"No, I haven't. Has Allison ever buzzed for you?" asked Stiles. Scott seemed offended for a moment, but Stiles interrupted before he could get his words out. "You asked me, I can ask you." 

"Uh, yeah. A couple times," he seemed embarrassed, but pleased. "It was . . . really nice. She was really cute-" 

"-I don't need any details. But uh, good for you, man?" They both laughed awkwardly. "Now can we stop with the 'real talk'? I've already had to talk to my dad about my desire for 'attention' and I'd really like to just scrub it from my memory." 

"Sure. Just . . . if you need me to kill him, let me know," chuckled Scott. Stiles tried to imagine Scott fighting Peter. He didn't think Scott would win, but to spare his friends feelings he nodded and agreed. 

The rest of the night passed in relative silence. They finished their movie and curled up in Scotts bed together to sleep. In a past life before Scott had met Allison and Stiles met Peter they might have cuddled, but now it didn't seem appropriate. Stiles fell asleep thinking about Peters warm hand on his forehead while he'd been sick. 

Scott offered to drive Stiles to Peters in the morning, but he refused. He knew his best friend well enough to know his real motives were a little less pure. He didn't need word getting back to his father taht the man lived in a secluded house in the middle of the woods. 

"You smell funny," Peter commented when he opened the door to let the omega inside. He crinkled his nose in disgust. 

"Thanks, you too." Stiles pushed past Peter into the house, dropping his backpack on the floor. Peter followed close behind and shoved his nose into the space between Stiles shoulder and neck.

"Dude!" Stiles started and jerked away, but Peters hand curled firmly around his bicep and kept him from getting too far. 

"Your hoodie smells bad," Peter said matter-of-factly. "Get rid of it." Stiles frowned. 

"It smells fine to me? We didn't change laundry detergents or anything." Stiles sniffed at his sleeve to be certain, but it was the same familiar scent of lavender and pine needles. 

"No," Peter furrowed his brow, stepping forward again. "It smells bad. You smell like another alpha. You reek like he rubbed all over you."

"What?" Stiles blinked in confusion. "Wait, do you mean, _Scott_?" 

"If that's what his name is, then yes, you smell like _Scott_ rubbed himself all over you. Why is that?" 

"Uh, probably because I stayed over at his place last night and we shared a bed?" Peters hand tightened around his bicep. "Whats wrong with Scott's smell?" 

"Nothing if he were a dead deer. Finally find an alpha you like, Stiles? You still smell like a virgin, though," Peters tone was teasing, but his eyes were not. Stiles decided he liked the way Peter looked when he was jealous. 

"Ew, No!" Stiles jerked away from him, managing to wrench his arm free. "Scott's like my brother. You sound like a jealous girlfriend." Peter rolled his eyes. 

"Hardly. Just get rid of the hoodie - and tell Scott he smells like a dead raccoon thats been sitting in the sun for too long." Stiles sighed, and reluctantly pulled his hoodie up over his head. He dropped it onto the sofa, and Peter snatched up the offending article and tossed it into the closet.

Peter remained touchy throughout the rest of the day. He constantly placed his hands on Stiles neck, shoulders, back, and hair. If Stiles asked him about it Peter would say he was trying to get rid of the 'offensive odor' before someone tried to bury him. 

When they were finished mixing up potions in the kitchen it was still too early for Stiles to go home, but Peter was out of ingredients and not in the mood to go out and buy more, so they settled in front of the T.V. to watch a movie. Unfortunately Peters collection was a mix of strange foreign-arts films, and horror movies. He picked the one that looked the least like a snuff film and popped it into the DVD player. 

It was nice, sitting in the living room watching a movie. Stiles sat on the floor, while Peter lay behind him on the sofa. Every so often he would feel a hand card through his hair. His touches were surprisingly gentle, much less forceful than the time he'd been dragged down a hallway by his legs because he didn't feel like being interviewed that day. He still had claw marks on his ankles. He surreptitiously leaned his head back into the hand. 

"My dad and Scott don't think I should spend anymore time with you," he said, apparently discontent with the peaceable mood. 

"Oh?" The hand in his hair stilled. "I guess that's not surprising. From his point of view it is taking us a very long time to find you a mate. Scott probably just wants you all to himself again." Stiles turned to face Peter, who managed to look predatory even when lying down and completely relaxed. 

"I- . . . What am I supposed to tell them?" He didn't have a response to Peter about Scott, he was still sounding like a jealous girlfriend. 

"Whatever you want too," Peter shrugged and his eyes flickered back up to the movie. It wasn't the answer he'd been looking for. 

"Even the truth?" he asked, some heat in his voice. He was both surprised and dismayed when Peter did not instantly reject the idea. He mulled it over in his mind, whilst keeping his eyes off Stiles. His only solace was the slight way his shoulders tensed up when he heard the word 'truth'.

"If that's what you want to do, I won't stop you." Stiles stomach dropped. "Just give me fair warning so I won't be surprised when Beacon Hills P.D. shows up at my doorstep," he winked at Stiles. 

"My dad wouldn't have you arrested for teaching me magic. I mean he would _try_ but I don't think it would go to court." Peter rolled over onto his stomach so that they were at eye level. Their faces were close and Stiles had to work to stop himself from blushing like a shy teenager.

"I'm sure he would be more concerned about what _other things_ I might be teaching you," his voice came out in a husky inflection that had Stiles wondering what 'other things' he was referring too. "Besides-" he continued, his normal inflections back "-it is against the law for an alpha to teach an omega without their current alphas permission.

"What kind of alpha would I be if I kept a poor, innocent omega from speaking to his parent? If you want to tell - do so. But give me a three days head start so I can find a decent place to hide from Beacon Hills P.D." He winked at Stiles, and patted his head again. "All I ask is that you visit me in the woods and bring soap. I won't even take you hostage, promise." Peter crossed his fingers.

Stiles had always been vocal about his hatred of omega instincts, particularly to people like Peter, who thought they were 'adorable'. It wasn't his fault that his body betrayed him whenever it could. A loud, perfectly audible _purr_ ripped unwillingly out of his throat. 

"Did you just purr at me?" asked Peter, sounding amused. His lips quirked into a grin. Stiles felt heat rush to his face and shifted awkwardly. He averted his eyes. He looked anywhere but Peters Cheshire cat grin. 

"Stop it! I can't control how my body responds to shit."

"No, you certainly can't," muttered Peter, beginning to chuckle. 

"Shut up, Peter," he snapped. He stood up indignantly and started heading towards the door. He'd thought having the 'sex ed' talk with his dad had been embarrassing enough, but no, the universe wasn't done with him yet. 

"Oh don't be like that. Would it help if I purred for you?" He heard Peters footsteps following him. Stiles scoffed. 

"Oh, yeah, because you can-" a strong arm wrapped around his waist and Stiles clenched his eyes shut instinctively. He was abruptly and without warning pulled into Peters hard chest. His arms were locked at his sides by those of the alphas in a gentle and unrelenting hold. He could feel a warmth start to spread from the pit of his stomach, ebbing away the previous anger that resided there. _No, no, no no no. Not now. Not while he's right there._

Stiles breath caught in his throat when he felt warm breathes of air make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and Peters nose pressed into the nape. He nosed his way up to Stiles ear, resting his head against the omegas. His skin was warm, the unnatural kind of warm that most werewolves shared. The wolves stubble prickled his skin. The wolves heart beat loudly behind him, and his breath came out steady and slow next to his ear. He could both hear and feel a deep, rumbling sound building in Peters chest, immediately followed by a low, contented purring noise.

"There, now," Peters tone was sultry and low, just like his purring had been. "You purred for me, and I purred for you. Fair's fair." Stiles kept his eyes clenched, fighting off the wave of heat that threatened to make him start purring again. "I'm going to get a drink from the kitchen, I'll bring you a soda. Go sit back down." Peter ruffled his hair, and that was the end of his ability to resist. 

The buzz hit him full force just after Peter left the room. His head started to swim pleasantly, and he wanted nothing more than to be curled up on Peters lap and nuzzle him and lick at his throat until he came back down again. He would not let that happen. 

He shook the dizziness from his head and tried to just think. He needed to escape, before Peter realized a couple of kind words, a hug, and a purr was all it took to turn him into a mewling kitten. He'd never hear the end of it.

He couldn't go to the front door. Peter was in the kitchen, and he'd scent the omega the second he drew near. As a poorly thought out alternative he dove for the window. He tugged it open, as the strength in his legs continued to drain at a steady pace. He heaved himself up onto the ledge and scrambled outside, thudding on the grass outside the house uncomfortably. 

\---  
Peter heard the window wrench open and an almost violent 'thudding' follow outside. He left the kitchen, correctly guessing whatever commotion was happening in the living room was largely Stiles fault, and likely something that could put him in danger. 

The scent of omega mating pheromones filled his nostrils before he'd even entered the room. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the aromatic environment before sighting the open window. His alpha instincts reawakened once again in his chest, and his eyes flashed alpha red. 

He suspected that Stiles feelings towards him were not entirely platonic, his wolf delighted in knowing he was correct. He hadn't expected the doey eyed omega to go into a full buzz, and so suddenly either. A predatory grin appeared on his face. 

_Stiles, you are an idiot,_ he thought. Another dark purr escaped his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Sangria who wanted more jealous Peter - there will be more. Lots more. Maybe not in this section, but definitely in the series as a whole. I only have one or two more chapters of this left, and they are mostly written out, so my updates this week and next should be a little quicker.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finally catches up to Stiles and tries to give him a mating bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter feels rushed, it's been a busy past couple of days. More on that in end notes.

Stiles tried to run, but with every step he took the ache in his heart grew wider. He wanted to be back at the alphas side, to bury himself in his arms in hopes that Peter might bite him. He felt stupid. He didn't want an alpha.

He didn't want an alpha. 

But he wanted Peter. 

He continued along through the forest at a slow pace, unaware of where he was going. His muddled thoughts strained his concentration, but he persisted and pushed onward. If Peter wanted him back, he could come and get him. 

\------

Peter took a few moments to compose himself before he pursuing the omega. His wolf was snarling to snatch him and drag him back to the house as quickly as possible, but Stiles was human and wouldn't get far.

He had planned on waiting until after he could convince Stiles that mating was not such a terrible thing, but a wolf could not resist a chase, and Stiles smelled _delicious._ Now seemed the perfect time to make his claim, whilst his scent still hung in the air - thick, heavy, and saccharine. He growled in anticipation of catching and biting the willful thing, claws subconsciously extending. He was already pretty, but he would be prettier with Peters marks on him. 

Hunting him wasn't all that difficult. An aromatic trail emitted from him, scenting every plant and tree he crossed. His body understood the importance of mating, even if his mind refused to accept it. The buzz would slow him down, cloud his thoughts, and make him long for an alphas touch. Peter knew this. He'd made it part of his career to help disobedient omegas come to terms with their natural instincts, and he would use his knowledge to ensure the one who he wanted returned to his side. 

He found Stiles resting against a tree, out of breathe and arms wrapped around his stomach. Peter observed him for a long moment, suppressing the wolves desire to pounce and bite him then and there. Those tactics wouldn't work on Stiles, it would only encourage him to run again and reject the mating. 

Stiles head shot up at the sound of a twig breaking underfoot. He hissed and spat in warning. The boys eyes were glazed and dusky, his body not in cooperation with his own rebellion. Brown eyes locked with red, and Peter growled low, and guttural. _Claim, mate, mine._

Stiles glared and spat at the alpha who had come to take his freedom away. He cursed every chemical in his brain for turning his legs to jelly and arms to mush. He knew he was supposed to be mad, but with every step Peter took towards him he forgot why. His brain sent signals that told him the alpha was a friend, he should trust him. He thought about going to the alpha. He wanted to go to the alpha. 

Then a wave of logic flooded his senses, and his determination to keep Peter as _far away as possible_ returned. He continued to spit and hiss at the red-eyed male. He was a strong, independent omega, who didn't need any alpha. Especially not tall, handsome ones with sexy smirks, muscly arms, and rock hard- his resistance wavered. 

_No! Bad Stiles._ In the time it took for him to come back to his senses Peter had crossed the gap between them and crouched only a few inches away. Stiles blinked. He should be mad, he was supposed to be mad. Why was he _mad_? He couldn't think of a response, much less vocalize one, so he allowed the alpha to put a hand against his cheek. He shivered at the electricity in his fingertips. He had only enough resistance to prevent himself from completely throwing himself at the other man. 

"What's wrong, Stiles?" he whispered into his ear, smirking. "Having trouble talking? You're awful cute when your quiet." _Bastard._ He held a look of mock concern on his face, clearly delighting in the omegas situation, half buzzed out and in no position to leave. Stiles mind was torn between needing to cling and wanting to run. He tried to growl but it came out as a mewl. 

Peter smirked and placed a hand on his stomach. Stiles jolted. "You're sensitive here, aren't you? Most people are, but omegas are uniquely sensitive here-" his free hand moved up to rub a few fingers over Stiles ear. He yelped and arched his back at the sensitive that ran down his spine. "You see? Mating can be very, very, _enjoyable_." 

"You are such a jerk," he breathed out, unwillingly spreading himself out more. He knew what Peter was trying to do - get him to expose his throat for a bite - but it would take more than an ear scratch and a belly rub for that to happen. Peter hummed. The hand began rubbing slow, soothing circles into his belly, slowly sliding his shirt up until he touched flesh. Stiles gasped and squirmed underneath him. 

"And _you_ still haven't exposed your throat yet. C'mon Stiles. You want this, your body wants this." His voice was soft and coaxing. Stiles couldn't find a reasonable argument. His thoughts were underwater, and whatever response bubbled to his lips disappeared when Peter caught his eye. The alpha starred down at him like prey, a hungry look in his eyes. Peter gently pushed him down onto his back, and Stiles hadn't the sanctity of mind to try and resist. He laid down nicely, while Peter continued to stroke his belly. 

"What are you doing? Are you going to bite me?" he asked, words just slightly slurred. The answer was obvious, but he wanted to be sure before he made a complete ass out of himself, again. He leaned into the alphas touch, who looked down at him seriously.

"Yes. It'll hurt a little, but you'll still be human." Stiles nodded, eyelids fluttering half-closed.

"Okay," he hesitated a moment before lifting his chin up, exposing the milky-white flesh of his throat. Above him Peter growled, proud, and preening. A thumb brushed over his pulse. Stiles shuddered, but kept his head up. He dug his fingernails into the course dirt to keep from rolling over onto his side. He felt vulnerable, but Peter would take care of him. His eyes stayed on Peters face as the alpha hovered over him. 

Peters claws lengthened and dug into the dirt at the sight of the near keening omega. He may not have been the perfect mate, but Peter never liked when things were perfect. 

"Good boy," Peter purred approvingly, rubbing his inner thigh. Stiles mewled and shuddered again, but his shoulders dropped from their tense position. The sight of the normally obstinate boy laying with his throat and belly exposed, behaving submissively went straight to his crotch; but he shook the thought from his head. He would have plenty of time to play with him later. Now he needed to mark him. 

"I hate you," the omega breathed out.

"I know, darling, but try and behave until after I've claimed you." Stiles eyes flashed darkly and he growled. 

"Feisty thing, aren't you? That's alright, I've always liked my partners to be a little spirited." He growled and tore his hand back when Stiles teeth dug into it. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to leave a mark. Peter hissed and watched the skin knit back together, before turning to face the omega again. 

He clamped his teeth down around Stiles throat, careful not to break the skin. The omega arched his back and cried out. He held onto the skin until he was satisfied his teeth had marked him up nicely. The fangs receded but his face and tongue did not. He spent a few extra minutes working on the mark, sucking and licking until it was a motley of red and blue. He enjoyed the quiet whines of the omega - his omega, his mate. He pulled back to admire it. 

The mark was dark and pretty against the pale, moled skin. He growled victoriously and pulled away. Stiles blinked, cloudiness fading from his eyes. The buzz had done its job, making him easy - easier - prey for the alpha to claim, and its effects were ebbed away. 

Stiles touched the mark shyly, wincing at the pain in his neck. He pulled his hand away, relieved to find there was no blood on his abused skin. It hurt less than he thought it would, he had expected pain and fear, loss. Instead what he felt was warmth, comfort in the presence of his _mate._ He let out another purr, uncaring if Peter heard him. 

"Should I . . . ?" he asked shyly, sitting up onto his elbows. Peter studied him carefully. 

"You already did that," Peter chuckled, holding up his bitten wrist. "But I suppose you can do it the _proper_ way, if you want too." Before he could protest Stiles was lifted up and placed on Peters lap, facing him. He didn't need to be told what to do, it was something that had been taught early on.

His teeth were dull and human, but they didn't hinder him. He bit down hard enough to leave a mark, knowing it would be ineffective against Peters hardened skin. The mark would not last, it would fade soon, but their bond had been completed and that was all that mattered. Stiles pulled back and nuzzled his mark. Peters arms wrapped around his waist and hugged him close. He laid his head down on Peters broad shoulders, purring continuously. 

Peter rubbed his back, letting the exhausted omega rest. They stayed like that for a while, the dull throb of Stiles teeth marks fading away after less than a minute. Stiles eventually uncurled from his position and he settled more comfortably between Peters legs, back against his chest. 

"I hate you," the words were spoken between utterances of soft omega purrs. 

"I know darling." Peter ruffled his hair affectionately, enjoying the way the omega - _his omega_ \- leaned into his touch. 

". . . I lied. I don't hate you. I like you." 

"I like you too, Stiles." 

It was late enough in the evening that fireflies sparked from the ground. They were a bit like Stiles, only shining bright when they wanted too. If they weren't looked at at the right time, no one may have thought they were anything special at all. Stiles was very special. 

"Making me chase you through the woods and carry you into my house is very courtly, Stiles. Here I thought you hated tradition. Do you want me to leave a dead stag on your fathers doorstep, too?" Peter asked tauntingly, then grimaced and thought for a second. "You should speak with the Sheriff when you get home." Stiles grimaced as well. 

"Shit," he sighed. "He's going to be pissed. Scott's going to be pissed." 

"Well, we could always run away, have an unofficial mating ceremony in Oregon?" He nipped Stiles ear, which sent another shudder through Stiles body. 

"I couldn't do that to my dad. He's already going to be mad I picked a mate without his consent first. We have to have like an official ceremony or I'll be officially disowned!" he waved his arms energetically. Peter continued to scowl. 

"I'm not sure I'd like armed police officers showing up at the ceremony." 

"I'll tell them to leave the guns in the car, it'll be fine!" Peter rolled his eyes. 

"We can discuss this later, for now-" he stood up, pulling Stiles with him. "It is getting late, and you have some explaining to do to your father." 

"Or . . . I could stay with you tonight?" he asked, trying to subtly press closer to Peter. Peter smiled, but shook his head.

"As much as I would love to break more societal conventions with you, it would be unwise." 

"Please, Peter?" Stiles stepped closer, putting his hand on the alphas shoulders. 

"No, Stiles. Calm down," he took Stiles hands and moved them away from his body. 

"B-but," the boy looked up at him with worried eyes. 

"Hush, I'm not rejecting you. I know you're probably _excited_ -" Stiles scowled at the word. "-but it's a big step and now isn't the time." He kept his grip on Stiles wrists firm to prevent him from trying to touch again. "You are a virgin, aren't you?" 

"Y-yes," Stiles stuttered out, blushing profusely. It was embarrassing to admit. 

"Hush. It's a good thing. If you weren't and another alpha _had_ touched you, then I'd need to hunt him down, and kill him," he released the boys wrists and patted his cheek affectionately. "As it is I'm already debating murdering this 'Scott' kid you're always on about." Stiles scoffed. 

"Well if you aren't going to do _that_ than can you come with me to speak with my dad? Pretty please. I might need the protection." Peter chuckled. 

"I have to speak with Talia. Trust me it won't be anymore fun." Stiles looked away, and then back up at Peter. 

Peter decided to take advantage of their close proximity, and Stiles silence to land a kiss on his lips. He dug his claws into the back of the omegas neck, and smirked when he did not pull away. Stiles hands reappeared on his shoulders, but he did not push them this time. Just because he couldn't sleep with him, didn't mean he wouldn't allow the omega some fun. 

"Stiles," he said when they finally broke apart, needing air. "Talk to your father." Then they kissed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if there are mistakes or this part is just generally horrible T.T I tried to finish it quickly, as next week I have 2 major exams, but I'll try to continue updating at least once a week. If it takes me a little longer than usual I promise I'm not dead, just have patience and I will return shortly. It really shouldn't exceed more than a week though. That having been said there's only going to be 1 - 2 more chapters of this particular part of the series. Thanks for all your patience n.n


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Scott have a talk, and Chris Argent is having a bad day.

Peter couldn't sleep that night. He almost wished he allowed Stiles to come back to his home, if only to have his omega close. Now that he had finally claimed him it bothered him that he didn't know where he was or what he was doing. A cold, icy hand gripped his stomach and whispered that Stiles was dead, or run away. He knew it wasn't true, but that didn't help. 

He cuddled the pillow that smelled like Stiles and stared at his contact information on his phone. Once the anxiety reached a head he pressed 'call.' He didn't make it past three rings before he realized what he was doing was stupid and paranoid and he could have just texted him instead. 

"Hello?" a sleepy voice answered before he had a chance to hang up. 

"Hey, Stiles," he breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Peter? Are you okay? Did you change your mind or-" 

"No," Peter said. He could finally relax now that he heard the omegas voice and know he was still okay. "No, I called you on accident. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I was until some jerk woke me up," he teased. "Shouldn't you? You don't sound like you've been sleeping."

"I'm a night owl," Peter lied smoothly. 

"Are we gonna do that girl thing where we spend all night talking on the phone? Cause I'm fine with that but I feel like there are _other_ things we could be-" 

"Did the hormonal teenager stage ever end for you?"

"Nope," he could hear the smile in his voice on the other end of the line. "I just don't understand why you're pushing so hard against it, I mean . . . you don't find me unattractive or anything, do you?"

"You are still a teenager, aren't you? Yes, Stiles; I think you're a very, very, pretty girl. That isn't the issue." 

"Shut up. So if that's not the problem, then what is?" Peter sighed. He thought about just hanging up, but maybe if Stiles knew he would stop pestering him. 

"You said you wanted a traditional mating ceremony. If I were to take you, and someone like Scott or one of your fathers deputies were to smell that you already had my scent, they could nullify our mating. Biting you is one thing - it's visible - but if I did _that_ they could say you were coercied into a mating; especially given your track record." Peter wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified that someone might try to take Stiles away from him. Once a mating was called into question the alpha and omega were seperated until they could definitevily prove what had actually happened, it would only take one word from Scott or the Sheriff to separate them - possibly forever. 

"Oh . . . Yeah, I guess I can understand why that would be bad. " Peter hummed in agreement. 

"Go to sleep now Stiles. We're _not_ going to do the teenage girl thing." Stiles chuckled. 

"Good night, Peter." 

"Good night, Stiles." There was a 'click' on the other end of the phone and Peter sighed, settling back down onto his bed. His omega was safe, and soon he would get to bring him home and have him in his bed, and that thought was enough to help him finally get some sleep. 

\------

"I'll kick his ass," fumed Scott, standing with his arms crossed against the wall. He'd yowled and started seething the moment he saw the dark bruises littering his friends neck. Stiles winced at the reaction and hurriedly tried to calm him.

"It isn't that bad, Scott," Stiles defended, rewrapping the scarf to cover his bite. It was a little unusual to be wearing a scarf of in seventy degree weather, and he'd gotten some strange looks as he left the house, but the Sheriff hadn't commented on it. "It was really sweet actually, he even touched my sensitive sp-" 

"He did _what?_ " glowered Scott. "He took advantage of you!" Stiles fought back to the urge to defend Peter. He knew Scott would be disapproving at best, but he'd been hoping for a little more enthusiasm over his mating. He dropped down onto Scotts bed, wincing a little as the pain in his neck flared up.

"Not _those_ 'sensitive spots'," Stiles rolled his eyes. "If he had I wouldn't be here. I'd be in bed. With Peter." Scott furrowed his brow and made a gagging noise. " _I_ was the one who wanted to go further, but Peter said no.

"Why can't you just be happy for me, for once? Do you not _want_ me to have a mate?" Even if it hadn't been entirely unexpected, Scotts rejection of Peter felt more like a rejection of himself. Scott looked guilty at the accusation. 

"I'm just worried about you, Stiles. He's so much older than you. A month ago you said you never wanted an alpha, _ever_ , and now you're all set to mate with one." He made a move towards Stiles, perhaps to touch his head or his shoulder but Stiles shied away. 

"I'm allowed to change my mind. Things change, and I . . . he made me purr."Stiles looked away sheepishly and picked at the hem of his shirt; it was still uncomfortable to say out loud and felt dangerously close to the 'T.M.I' category.

"You purred for him?" Scott guilt transformed into betrayal. "You don't even purr for _me_." Again, not the response he had been looking for. Stiles groaned and flipped over onto his stomach burying his face in the pillow. 

"You are being _very_ unattractive right now," his words were muffled by the pillow being used in his self-smothery attempt. "And everyone needs to stop getting it into their heads that I can control who - or what - I purr for. If I could I would have saved myself a lot of embarrassment in every grade _ever_." 

"You're my brother, Stiles. I'm always gonna be concerned about you." Scott sat down next to him, finally landing a hand on his back and rubbing, careful not to agitate the bite marks. 

Stiles couldn't help but think how different Scotts touch was from Peters. They were both warm, werewolf warm, but Peter was firm and decisive - like Peter himself - while Scott was gentle and feather light. They both felt so uniquely different, and at the same time they both gave him an equally comforting sense of _home_. 

"If Peter makes you happy then... I guess I can deal with that." Stiles looked up to see Scott shrug. He gave him a weak, resigned smile. "I mean I'll tolerate him, but I don't have to like him, right?" Stiles smiled back and considered it a win, at least for the time being. He couldn't stay mad at Scott long when he knew his actions were only out of protectiveness for his omega friend. 

"Fair enough. Now help me figure out how the hell I'm going to explain all this to my dad." Scott grimaced. 

\-----

Christopher Argent was having a rotten day, and it had all started because Peter was having a rotten day and felt the need to share his bad attitude with the rest of the world. Of course, Peter would never tell his oldest and potentially only friend what was wrong, instead he gave short snippets in between growls and snaps. When Chris finally tuned him out he was mumbling something about 'happy', and 'supportive', and 'doesn't have to be so smug about it'. 

Chris, being the good friend that he was, listened inattentively for the first few minutes with his head resting on his hand while Peter continued to rant. At one point Chris had tried giving Peter a pillow to sink his teeth into. Peter scoffed at first, but the pillow now lay in a feathered heap at the bottom of his trash can. 

"Chris, I'd like to speak with you if you have a moment." He was jarred from his thoughts by the voice at the door. Chris looked up from his computer just long enough to recognize the approaching Sheriff. 

"Unless it's about a case-" 

"It's about Stiles." Chris's face darkened. He was already in a poor mood from listening to Peter whine, he really didn't think he had the patience to listen to another persons petty problems that evening. 

"I'm not helping him with his 'werebunny' problem," he said in what he hoped was a friendly but firm tone. He held no dislike for the Stilinski family, though he wasn't shy about expressing that Stiles could stand to learn to leave well enough alone, though his integrity was hard not to admire. Peter vouched that Stiles could be rather cute when he wasn't running his mouth, but Chris had a hard time imagining a silent Stiles. 

John scoffed at the suggestion. "You do, and I'll shoot you. He doesn't need anymore ideas in his head." The corners of Chris's mouth twitched up into an unwilling smile. Though he was relieved it wasn't about anything so mundane, he could guess what the Sheriff wanted to talk about.

"What can I help you with?" he asked, closing down the laptop and turning to look at John. 

"You're friends with Peter Hale, aren't you?" Chris frowned again, sighed, and motioned for the sheriff to take a seat. Of course Peter had found yet another way to make his day worse. He knew what this conversation would be about; he'd been thinking about it for a while now, too. They stared out the window for a few seconds, each trying to piece together the best way to broach the subject. 

"Do you think they're...?"

"Of course. They have to be." Chris sympathized with the protective parent, but he also felt duty bound to look out for Peters best interest as well. "I've never seen Peter spend so much time with an omega before - not since his first. Peter doesn't . . . Peter doesn't _like_ people, he 'tolerates' people, but he likes Stiles." John looked displeased with the answer and drummed his fingers along the side of Chris's desk. 

"I was afraid of that," John admitted. "Do you think its a good idea? To let them mate?" 

"Are matings ever a good idea?" Both men grimaced. They had each lost an omega somewhere in their lives, and though Chris had eventually moved on and met Isaac, the sheriff had not. 

"Peter's already mated once before, it makes me wonder if he actually takes the whole thing seriously. I can't imagine losing an omega, and then just . . . forgetting about them." John was starring out into the courtyard with a haunted looked. 

"You never forget about them. I loved my wife, and I love Isaac just as much. It's not the same, but it's still as strong." The sheriff gave him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Chris, I didn't mean any offense by that. I know you loved Victoria." Chris nodded solemnly. 

"I still love her, but..." he tried to form the words right in his head. "Peters situation isn't like ours. He didn't lose a loving omega because she died, or some other unnatural force took her away from him. 

"His omega ran away from him, right after having their child. He came home one day and his omega and his child were both _gone_ , and he was left broken, feral, and _alone_. He wouldn't risk that again. Not unless he really loved Stiles." John took in his words quietly, sipping at his coffee so he wouldn't have to talk. 

"I'd do anything to save Stiles from that kind of pain. He already lost his mother, he shouldn't have to lose anyone else. 

"I'm just not sure I trust Peter with my kid," John said, and he sounded sincere. Chris only nodded. He understood the sheriffs reservations, he wasn't entirely certain he trusted his daughter with a werewolf, either, but it didn't matter what he wanted. 

"You don't have to trust Peter; you have to trust Stiles." The sheriff grimaced. "I don't think it would be fair to have Stiles reject a mate if they're already bonded." In truth he was more concerned about Peter, he didn't think the other alpha could stand to lose another omega.

"Stiles won't have to reject him. I'll speak with Peter." Chris sighed and prepared for his already rotten day to get that much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to keep updating this at least once a week, I promise! The pre-courtship part of their mating is coming to a close, so if anybody has any pre-courtship things they would like to see, now is the time to request it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles talks to his father, Peter gets jealous, and the Hale women gossip.

Stiles practiced the words he and Scott had come up with over and over again in his head, waiting for the right moment to talk to his father. However, every time an opportune moment came his usually overactive brain would go dead, and he would lose his nerve. 

Three days passed without mention of the bite. John looked confused, and then annoyed whenever he appeared with a scarf or a sweatshirt hiding his neck. If he had his suspicious they went unvoiced. At least for a little while. 

"Stiles, do you know what the penalty for omega abuse is in this state?" John asked casually as he looked over his paperwork. Stiles sat next to him, dealing with paperwork of his own. His bite was still hidden meticulously underneath a scarlet scarf; the pain almost completely faded, but the discoloration remained. 

"Uuuuh," he looked up from his school work, biting his lip. He had a good idea where the question might have come from, but playing innocent seemed the easiest choice. "I don't think I do. Processing a new case?" 

"Depending on the severity of the crime it can range from either a gross misdemeanor, or a felony life sentence." John continued without answering the question. "I believe the highest penalty ever given was nine consecutive life sentences." John looked over at him now, expression unreadable. Stiles tapped his pencil against the table, feeling it slip a little in his sweaty palms. 

"That's . . . interesting." He still didn't have the courage to confess. The guilt ate away at him, but so did the fear that John might reject his mating partner. He wasn't sure whom he would chose if he had to pick between John and Peter. 

"The victim doesn't have to be physically assaulted for it to be considered a crime, either. Many cases are processed each year that relate to the coercion, or intimation of an omega. You remember the Lahey boy? His father was initially tried for neglect of an omega- before all the abuse allegations came out.

"But I'm sure Peter knows all about that." Stiles started at the mention of his mate. "As a mating coach I'm sure he's _very_ familiar with the delicateness of his situation; if not I'd be happy to go over it with him." There was a threat in his tone, a threat that let him know John _knew_. He opened his mouth to talk, but his throat had run dry. 

"Well would you look at the time? I'm late to meet Scott, better go now-" he started gathering up his books and pencils to haul them upstairs, then duck out the window for a speedy escape. John grabbed his arm before he could even stand.

"Not so fast, Stiles," his expression was serious. Stiles gulped. "Why are you wearing a scarf?" Stiles slumped back into his chair, biting on his abused lip again. 

"You know," he said in a quavering voice, letting his arms fall limp at his sides. It was almost liberating to say the words out loud; or at least it would have been if his heart didn't beat like a rabbit in his chest. 

"Of course I know," John furrowed his brow. "I'm your father; it doesn't take two months to find a mate. No mating coach I know of sees an omega half as much as he sees you." 

"Peter isn't abusing me; he's actually really . . . well kind isn't the right word . . . uhm protective? Attentive?" John furrowed his brow at his sons chosen words. 

"That's not a very reassuring statement, Stiles." 

"Peter is . . . unusual, but so am I. I think we'd be good mates. I was going to tell you, I just wanted to wait for the right time." John stared at him, expecting more. They'd always had a good relationship, but his parental alpha knew Stiles propensity for dodging the truth. 

He tried to explain as best he could what had transpired between him and Peter, without going into much detail and without making Peter seem like a total creep. All the words he had practiced with Scott disappeared from his mind, and he found his words came out more as pleas than actual statements.

"He just . . . I can't describe it. It just feels right; he made me purr," Stiles drew his knees up to his chest. He hadn't ever felt so vulnerable before. John listened patiently as he spoke, though his body language was guarded. "I really like Peter. I want to mate with him." Stiles finished. "I guess I kind of _have_ mated with him," he gave a weak smile that was not returned. 

"Stiles," John sounded uncertain. "I trust you, but I don't trust Peter." Stiles stomach dropped. "I'm not going to deny your mating, if it's what you really want. But if you ever come home with so much as a _scratch_ I'll-" Stiles pulled him into a hug before he could finish his sentence. 

After the initial surprise wore off John held his son tightly, enjoying the long-forgotten sound of an omega purring in their home. 

\--------

"Shut up, Peter."

"I haven't said anything to you, Stiles." Peter continued to knead the back of his omegas neck, eliciting yet more soft purrs from the already buzzed omega. He hadn't stopped purring since he'd showed up on Peters doorstep an hour ago. It was greatly inhibiting his ability to speak, but Peter didn't mind having his omega silent for once. 

"I can feel you thinking things, I can feel you thinking them _loudly_ ," he complained, biting down on one of the sofa pillows. Peter smirked, but didn't respond. He chuckled once the reverberating sound of Stiles near-constant purrs started up again. 

"I'm not happy; _I'm not._ " He turned and buried his face into Peters sweatshirt. Peter rested his hand on Stiles head and stroked through his hair down to his neck. 

"No, of course not. Out mating shouldn't be a joyous occasion for you." He hadn't been able to get more than a couple words or short sentences out of the omega since he'd showed up at his door. He let the boy inside and settled down with him on the sofa, Stiles wrapped up tightly in his arms. Stiles nodded again, another rumbling purr escaping his throat. 

"You know, I rather like your purrs. They keep you quiet." Stiles smacked him with the pillow he'd been abusing, forcing down another wave of unwelcome sound. 

"Did you talk to Talia, yet?" The sheriff was one battle, the Hale matriarch was another. 

"No and I never will," Peters face soured in thought, his grip on the omega boy tightening slightly. Stiles glowered at him.

"I had to talk to my alpha, why don't you have to talk to yours?" Peter grinned at him.

"Because I'm not an omega, I don't need permission to mate."

"Societal dynamics are bullshit," sighed stiles. "My dad wants to sign papers on the twenty-third." The sheriff really didn't want to sign them at all, but he'd caved when Stiles tried calling Peter and hadn't been able to speak through his own noises.

"The twenty-third works for me," Peter nodded. "The sooner I get to have you as mine, the better."

"I want Scott to be there for the signing." Peter gave a breathy laugh that came out sharp and distinct, rather than mirthful.

"No." He said seriously, pulling Stiles up on top of him. Stiles purrs abruptly stopped. "I don't want that _other_ boy anywhere near you." Stiles glared down at him.

"Why not? He's my friend; and it's important to him-" Peter gave another nasty look "-It's important to _me_." 

"I don't like the way he behaves around you." Peter brushed his nose along Stiles jawline, rubbing lightly at his neck. 

" _Really_ , Peter? What's wrong with his behavior? He acts a lot more ethically towards me than you do; pretty sure the whole 'teaching an omega dark magic' is still illegal."

"Are you that oblivious? It's claiming behavior, he's trying to claim you- if not as his mate than as a member of his pack. I don't like it." Peter pulled away from Stiles jaw to press their foreheads together. Stiles breath caught in his throat at the closeness, but he held steadfast to his argument. 

"What's so bad about that? We're practically brothers. Hell, I have a key to his house." 

"A key that _you_ made- but that isn't the point. You're a member of _my_ pack." Peter pulled Stiles closer, fingernails just barely sharpened to a point. Stiles closed his eyes and breathed in the musky scent of his alpha. He struggled to suppress an ever-growing desire to buzz, and purr, and be scented by his alpha all over again. 

"You won't even let me meet your pack." He spoke mostly to distract himself. 

"For your own protection. If I took you to meet them they'd just interrogate you on how many litters you plan on having." Peter rolled his eyes but his grip on the omega relaxed. Stiles pulled away, nestling himself back into his previously occupied space between the back of the sofa and Peter. He rested his head on the alphas shoulder, close enough to smell the scent emanating from his neck. 

"Litters?" repeated Stiles, questioningly. He should have paid more attention to his 'omega anatomy' class. 

"Yes Stiles, wolves give their mates litters." 

"But, I'm a human . . . " 

"Oh, your body doesn't care about that. It will accept my seed as a wolf and make room for all those little pups I pump into you. The average is six, I had a cousin who gave birth to twelve." Peter sounded proud. Stiles blanched. 

"I'm not sure I can even handle one!" 

"Then," Peter pressed his lips to Stiles forehead, "we won't go and meet my pack, hmm?" Stiles lifted his head up to kiss him, and Peter eagerly returned it. The feeling of Peters warm lips pressed against his made him forget what they had been arguing about. 

\----

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the delay, still super bogged down T.T 
> 
> This story was supposed to be 3 chapters, how are we on 7?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Stiles finally get mated, the Hales aren't happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loooong end notes below. Long one. I did my best to write smut, which I'm honestly not very good at or familiar with, but I did my best for those who requested it. I know I've mentioned this every update so far, but sorry for the long wait!

The mating ceremony took place in a small building by a lake. Summer was fading into autumn, littering the area with red, yellow, orange, and brown leaves. Peter didn't care where they were mated - the quieter the better - but the lake was where Stiles parents had been mated, so it was important to him to have been mated there as well. 

It would have been a quiet ceremony, if not for the dozen or so police officers the sheriff brought with him. Most of the officers were in uniform. All of them carried guns. They were mostly humans- the wolves usually drifted to Chris's division, rather than Stilinskis- but they still left their scents all over Stiles. Stiles made Peter promise to just endure the scenting, just for now, and then when they got home he could scent Stiles as much as he liked.

He knew on some level that the touches were familial in nature, not claiming in the slightest; yet he was still driven to grab him, and squeeze him, and rub his scent on Stiles as soon as the alpha or alphas backed away. After today Stiles would smell like him and only him. Peter grimaced as an unusually 'friendly' deputy grabbed Stiles in a bear hug, coating him in a thick layer of the others smell. Stiles gave him an apologetic look, he knew his mate was barely controlling his possessive temper. 

Stiles was also having some difficulty keeping his own emotions in check. As much as he wanted to mate with Peter, the more logical side of his brain screamed that mating was in direct contrast to everything he stood for; allowing himself to get signed into someone else’s care was definitely against his ‘strong, independent, omega who needs no man,’ self-image. 

As soon as Stiles managed to squirm out of the officers arms he found Peter had disappeared. He frowned and looked around, sighting Peter talking . . . well not talking . . . rather, conversing with one of the deputies. It didn’t look like their conversation was going well. 

Stiles assumption was right, Peter and the deputies conversation was not going well; unless going well meant being interrogated for the past fifteen minutes. The deputy was young, unmated, and clearly feeling a little over-protective of his bosses son. 

As Stiles appeared at his side Peter felt his growing temper dissipate a little. He wrapped an arm around his omegas waist and pulled him close to his side. 

"I don't know what we'd do if something _happened_ to him," the officer continued. His hand was on his gun since the conversation began; but to be fair, it was one of Peter’s friendlier altercations with the police, and so long as the weapon wasn’t drawn it would be his best. 

"There's been a lot of accidents this year, shame if it keeps rising." Peter did not react to the thinly veiled threat. Stiles gave an awkward laugh. 

At least the McCall boy was keeping his distance. 

Scott was still pouting over not _officially_ being invited to the ceremony. As far as Peter knew, his invitation still lay stuffed underneath the couch cushions alongside Talias. It was a shame Stiles had decided to tell him about the ceremony in person. At least Talia had yet to get wind of his remating. 

Chris and Isaac were there as well, though they mostly kept to themselves. Isaac was shy around alphas and protective of his human mate. It was almost amusing how the omega would growl lowly when another alpha approached, especially since Chris more than capable of protecting them both. 

They were there for officiation purposes, someone needed to represent Peter's pack and the solemn duo were the most likely to agree to it without coercion, or informing Talia Hale. 

“I’m sure if we all just mind our own business there won’t have to be any more _accidents_ ,” said peter in a deceptively bored voice. The omegas presence helped him keep calm, but his patience was wearing thin; fortunately he knew a good way to get the officer to leave. Stiles might be angry with him for it later, but for now it was as good an idea as any. The officer opened his mouth to speak again but Stiles sudden trills broke his train of thought. 

Peter had removed his hand from Stiles waist and placed it on the back of his neck, gently kneading the skin just below his hairline. His face flushed but he made no effort to move away from the gentle kneading at the base of his neck. He tried to protest but the erupting purrs cut him off. Over their past few days together he and Peter discovered he was particularly sensitive to throat touching. Stiles could feel his lips drooping and his lips pulling into that stupid happy grin. 

The officer was quick to excuse himself. Peter smiled and ran his fingers through Stiles chestnut hair. "Thank you, dear." 

Stiles blinked at the loss, shaking his head he recovered quickly. "Not. Fair. We talked. We said not in public."

“Unless it was an emergency,” Peter reasoned. 

“That wasn’t an emergency!” 

“It was an emergency for me.” 

The rest of the signing went by more smoothly, though it wasn't flawless. Ordinarily the two mates would bite each other, but he and Stiles had already taken care of that, Stiles still had dark bruises ranging from his shoulder up to the top of his throat. They decided 'kissing' would be the next best thing. Peters first suggestion was fucking. 

_"You said you wanted a traditional mating," he said when Stiles blanched. "That's about as traditional as it gets. Me, fucking you on an altar in front of your friends and family." As eager as Stiles was to get into bed with him, the idea of being fucked on an altar in front of a large crowd was off putting to him. Maybe when he was older._

Their mating ‘kiss’ was just as nontraditional as the couple. 

Peter would like to say that he kissed him first, but that's not what happened. He would like to say that their kiss was smooth and graceful, but that's not how it happened either. In actuality Stiles was the first one to make a move, and it was about as graceful as a cat having a seizure. It was fortunate that werewolves had accelerated healing, or Peter would have spent the entire rest of their mating ceremony nursing a bloody nose. 

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry," Stiles said, looking at him with an apologetic smile. Peter heard a loud 'ha' come from the crowd that could have been the Sheriff or Scott, and lots of chuckling and embarrassed coughing. He withheld the growl growing in his throat. 

"It's fine," he grumbled, already feeling the injury start to heal. "Let me try this time, darling." The kiss that followed was much more tempered than the first. John and Chris signed their respective forms, and Stiles and Peter were declared mates. 

\----------

Stiles clothes lay in shreds less than five minutes after getting home. Peter was quick to drag him into the bedroom and shove him down onto his back. Peter snarled and licked over the bite mark he'd made and sucked on the spots he didn't think were dark enough. Stiles panted and squirmed, placing his hands on Peter’s shoulders. 

"Peter," he whined. He was twitchy with anticipation, cock already half hard knowing he was _finally_ going to get fucked by his mate. Peter pulled back and observed him, a dark smirk on his face.

"I like omegas," he admitted in a tone that felt way too calm for the situation. "Especially the virgin ones," his eyes drifted to Stiles cock. "They're so much more-" he thought for a second- "responsive, the first few times you _fuck_ them." The word was punctuated by another lick and a nip to Stiles ear. Stiles growled and bucked his hips, wordlessly urging Peter to get on with it. 

“Now,” he demanded. “Fuck me _now_ , Peter!” He squirmed and whined when Peter pulled away from him. “

“Soon,” Peter promised. “But first you need to be prepped.” He tapped two of his fingers against Stiles lips. “Be a good boy and suck them.” Stiles opened his mouth obediently and allowed Peter to push his fingers in past his lips and teeth. They were salty to taste, but still Stiles licked and sucked them. After a few more seconds Peter withdrew them. Stiles whined. 

“This is going to feel a little uncomfortable, but try to stay relaxed.” Stiles couldn’t help but tense when he felt the wet finger sliding inside of him. Peter used his other hand to hold Stiles down, gripping onto his shoulder. A few short seconds later and another finger was inserted next to the first inside of him. Peter started wiggling them and Stiles tensed up a little more. 

“Relax, Stiles,” the alpha commanded again. Stiles did as he was told and took a deep breathe, releasing it slowly. As Peter continued his motions it started to hurt less and less each time. “There now, that’s a good boy. How’s it feel?”

“Uncomfortable,” he squirmed. Peter gave a small chuckle and pumped them in and out. “Ah!” Stiles gasped as he rubbed over an area that felt particularly sensitive. Peter grinned, he continued hitting the spot and Stiles moaned, his cock hardening more each time.

“There it is; good boy,” Peter praised. Stiles growled lightly and nipped at the hand on his shoulder. The motions felt good but he wanted _more_ , he didn’t want to cum just from a few fingers. 

“Oh quit it,” Peter said, taking his hand off Stiles shoulders just as he slipped his fingers out. Stiles began to whine but without warning was flipped over onto his stomach before he could protest. Peter was over him in a second, weighing his body down with his own.  
“Ready?” Peter asked. Stiles felt the tip of Peters cock against his ass; even the tip was larger than he imagined it was. The tip pushed inside of him just a little, making the tight ring of muscles tense and burn as it was inched inside.

"Yeah," Stiles panted out, giving a curt nod. "Keep going. _Please_." Peter was more than happy to comply. He thrust the rest of his cock deep inside the omegas ass, filling him up. Stiles squealed a the same time he groaned as he felt Stiles tight ring of muscles contract around him. He gave the omega a moment to adjust before he began thrusting in earnest. He took it slowly at first, not wanting to push him too hard and accidentally hurt him. 

“Hngh-hn-hn- Ah!" Stiles yelled out as Peters cock rubbed over his sweet spot. He buried his face into the pillow, biting down on it hard. 

“Don’t do that,” Peter scolded, thrusting into him harder and giving his ass a light slap. “I want to hear you.” The omegas sweet sounds filled the room a second later. Stiles squirmed and cried out a little as Peter continued to thrust into his prostate again, and again. It hurt but it felt too good for him to care. His noises nearly doubled in volume as Peter grasped onto his cock with a warm hand. The noises that spilled from his lips turned into garbled obscenities almost instantly. The wolf in Peter howled in possessive delight at how the omega melted into his touches. 

“My omega, my mate, mine,” he growled. His eyes burned a vibrant red as he continued fucking into him. Stiles gave a nonsensical reply, grasping onto the sheets tightly. He was nearing his edge and he knew Peter must be getting close too from the way the cock swelled inside of him, pushing him to his limit of endurance. 

The hand on his cock continued to stroke and thumb over him, in time with the thrusting. Stiles could not take much more. “Peter, I-I need-“ he trailed off into a moan. 

“Cum, Stiles,” the wolf commanded, pressing a thumb to his slit. Stiles released, spurting out as much cum as his omega body could produce onto the sheets and Peters hand below him. He panted and rested his head back onto the pillow. Peter continued to abuse his prostate for a few more seconds before he too came, roaring as he did so and clamping down onto Stiles marked-up throat. He enjoyed Stiles warmth for another second or two before he pulled out of the omega, some of his cum dribbling out with his cock. 

Peter collapsed down next to his partner, pulling the omega against his chest. They could clean up in the morning, besides, Stiles looked too blissed out to move. His eyes were glazed as he nuzzled against the alphas shoulder.

“My omega,” Peter repeated once more, kissing him on his reddened lips. “You will always be mine.”

“Alpha,” Stiles said, nodding agreeably through his exhaustion. “Yes, yours.” 

\-----

The atmosphere in the Hale household was tense as they stared at the offending red letter. The contents were brief, but enough to be a shock to the entire Hale household. 

“I can’t believe he took another omega,” whispered Talia. 

“I can’t believe he didn’t invite us to the ceremony,” grumbled Laura. She was still annoyed that her uncle lacked the common courtesy of letting his family welcome their new pack member. “We could have had the ceremony here, with all our friends and family.” 

“We did that last time, and he hated it,” pointed out Cora, who received a sharp glare from her sister. 

“What if he’s hiding him from us on purpose, what if he’s _abusing_ him?” It wasn’t the first time the argument was brought up. 

“I don’t think Peter would abuse an omega,” said Derek, looking up from his book. He didn’t really care about his uncle picking a new mate, if he wanted another omega that was all well and good for him.

“Of course he’s being abused, it’s creepy uncle peter. Peters going to abuse him, or worse -he'll turn into an evil, sarcastic jerk, just like him." Talia rubbed her daughters back lovingly.

“Well, there’s nothing to stop us from checking up on them from time to time,” she turned to her eldest son. “Why don’t you pay them a visit, Derek?” Derek grimaced. It sounded like a horrible idea to him, but he knew he wasn’t really being asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be the last chapter I write for this part; I wanted it to be longer but I just don't have the time to continuously update this and edit it to the point that I'd like, and I don't want to put up work that I'm not completely happy with, so I'd rather end this here than continue writing something I don't feel is very good. That having been said the rest of the series is still going to continue, the good news is I can get back to the individual parts in the series which take me much less time to write and edit, so hopefully I'll get back onto a regular uploading schedule. For the people who requested certain things (more jealous Peter, ect) they will be coming up; and hopefully sooner than these last few parts. I'm also going to start writing a new series soon that will either be Steter or Stetopher. Thanks so much to everybody for all the comments, kudos and subscriptions n.n


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